Spidermayne and the Semenster Six
by satansleftnuthair
Summary: "Well, I don't... That's really messed up. And super gay." - Evan from Superbad


"Well, I don't... That's messed up. And super gay." - Evan from Superbad

Spidermayne and the Semenster Six

Along the wall Spidermayne crawled, watching a criminal below who just robbed a jewelry store. Boy, Spidermayne knew two jewels he'd let the hoodlum snatch…

His thick donger grinded against the brick wall as he crawled forwards. He wondered which was harder: the brick, or his rod of truth. Soon enough, he began to worry that his spider slinger would smash right through the wall. That wasn't the kind of smashing Spidermayne wanted tonight...

Blast! The criminal saw Spidermayne and began to run. Spidermayne felt his loins burn like a hotdog over a fire. A thick, sweaty hot dog with greasy white already dribbling out. The criminal ran; he didn't want Spidermayne anywhere near him. But that was okay with Spidermayne. That's how he liked it. That's how he wanted it…

As he gave chase, he could feel his saucy peener throbbing in his tight, tight, pants. After all, he was the _friendly_ neighborhood spider. And he'd show just how friendly he could be.

The hoodlum ran into an alley and realized that he'd hit a dead end. He pressed against the wall as Spidermayne dropped to the ground. Oh, Spidermayne wanted to see how hard he'd press against the wall in a few short minutes. Short, unlike his baton of justice. Maybe it wasn't black, but he sure as hell planned to smack the hoodlum's face with it a couple of times.

Spidermayne yoinked down his pants and yanked out his dispenser of truth. He opened his justice-giving with his signature move: the helicopter. And helicopter he did. He needed both hands to grip his massive schlonger, and he groaned as he pulled that voluptuous beast round in circles. But even with his super strength, his love-pump was just too massive; his hot dog, extra mayo, spun slow enough for the criminal to glance at every curvature with pure wonder. The sight was so sexy, Spidermayne was giving himself blue balls. As his albino mamba flopped back and forth in the air, the criminal pulled off his trench coat, revealing his career enemy: the Shocker.

He was called the Shocker for a reason. Two in the pink, one in the stink, as they said. But Spidermayne hoped that Shocker could forget those first two fingers and gaggle on his cock instead.

Suddenly, another figure jumped off of the roof and landed in the alleyway. The Rhino, the grey god of gaping gungholes. Those on the streets said that the Rhino liked to ram things, but Spidermayne knew the truth. The Rhino took it like a goddamned champ. Legend says that the grey beast took eight gooey man-crumpets in his bum-bum at once. At the thought, Spidermayne felt his butthole pucker like an aged raisin.

Two more nefarious villains, Doctor Octopussy and Kraven the Hunter, arrived at the sausage party from the street. Spidermayne was surprised that they didn't trip on all of the sexual tension on the way in.

Spidermayne knew exactly what type of porn Doctor Octopussy liked the second those metal tentacles wrapped around his legs, gently probing his love-dungeon. That wasn't usually Spidermayne's thing, but tonight he was willing to try. He wanted it. He wanted it all.

Nothing got Spidermayne's peppy pecker going like Kraven's loincloth. One blow of wind in the right direction, and Spidermayne got a sneak look at Kraven's true little hunter. And little it was; he could masturbate through the slits of a fork. But Spidermayne wasn't fooled; he knew Kraven's little one inch wonder could do some damage in the right hands. Or rather, in the right peanut-collector: Spidermayne's throbbing asshole.

"You've hit us so many times," Doctor Octopussy said, scowling, "It's time for us to hit back."

Doctor Octopussy sounded so angry, but Spidermayne could see his true emotions through through his thick goggles: desire. Daddy wanted to come home. In the sweaty, stinky home he knew best. And God, that bowl cut… Spidermayne knew it needed to be filled with some of his special sauce.

"Yes," Spidermayne whispered, turning around and bending over. His pants were already down; he was ready. He was so young, but he was so ready...

His webshooter was primed, and not either of the ones on his wrists. Justice would be given tonight, in the form of thick globs of white ecstasy. No soul would be spared from the sling of his webs.

Another figure dropped from the shadows of the night and landed in front of Spidermayne.

"Venom," Spidermayne whispered in rage. Anger, with a hell of a lot of arousal. Spidermayne was confused. His aching gigglestick was confused.

Venom was his enemy, his archnemesis, his rival. His pendulum of pleasure swung back and forth between his legs, clacking like a moist grandmother's clock. So big… once you go black, you never go back, and none of Spidermayne's pen-suckers ever came back after meeting that ferocious man-God.

"Still haven't flossed, I see," Spidermayne muttered in frustration. Those jagged yellow teeth looked like they were brushed with goddamned butter every day. But Lord, did Spidermayne want to be buttered up and served to that flickering tongue inside his mouth… That thing could speak in three different languages. Moaning orgasm. Screaming orgasm. Whimpering orgasm. For those times when it felt so good you need to rethink your life. Maybe change your name, move to a nice little prairie on the house with him. And accept his pleasures on the daily, knowing that you can never give head quite as good or suck ass with the same prowess he can. But you try anyway, knowing that he loves you and you love him, knowing that even if you can't make him explode in a thick creamy mess he can always use that vibrator you bought him on his thirtieth anniversary to finish the job, the one birthday where you both cried to one another, lamenting how old you're both getting while looking forward to the tender years of old age, fully knowing that your physical capacity will diminish while the desire to always please one another will never subside…

Fuck, he had a big dick.

"Please. You couldn't sodomize an ant," Venom retorted. The words hurt, but they hurt so good. Like Venom's third leg splitting him in two. He wanted it so bad…

Spidermayne couldn't help himself. His mouth opened, and those fateful words came out in a choked whisper:

"Take me, big papi."

Venom pounced on Spidermayne, and they pressed together like two brothers reuniting. Maybe that wasn't the best analogy. Or maybe it was.

Spidermayne's true super power wasn't his radioactive spider powers. No, his true power was even more volatile, even more potent, even more overwhelming. He was the chosen one. He was the omnikink.

So brother, daddy… he could get into it. No, he already was into it. That was his gift. That was his curse.

Spidermayne cried out as his master furiously shoved his STD-riddled sword into his unprepared holder. Spidermayne had trained for so long, starting with baby carrots then moving onto cabbages and even pineapples, but nothing could prepare him for the twenty-four inch power tower of taint tearing that Venom packed with him like an armed WMD. He did Spidermayne so good. He did him so right. His sweaty nips pointed out at full attention.

Venom wasn't no one-pump chump. He was a black, disturbingly hairy steed carrying Spidermayne straight into pleasure town. Up that mountain they climbed, towards that whiteness they strived.

The other four spectators lowered their trousers and started to jack off, because why the fuck not.

Spidermayne tried to control the power of the omnikink, but he could do so no longer. In an ashamed moan, he cried out, "Punish me."

Venom pulled a whip straight out of his ass, which he kept for situations like this. He never needed to worry about a man's mushroom poking into his lonely backside. With such a massive dangalang, how could Venom morally take and not give? With great power came great responsibility, of course.

Spidermayne's pitiful, pathetic cries from the whip's errotic lash sent his villains' power drills to maximum hardness. They all had to cum now, lest they die of an unprecedented case of blue balls. And such a fate no man ever wants to endure. They pumped their pleasure pistons, the pleasure building, the pleasure building…

As the first dribbles of precum dripped out of Spidermayne's wrinkled pug dick, a question came into his mind, one that he had to have answered. He asked, "This is the Semenster Six. There's only five of you. Where's your last member?"

"He's among us. He's watching," Venom groaned, thrusting in and out like spicy Chilean seductively shoving a stale burrito in and out of a sombrero.

Spidermayne's hole was gaping now. Like a hot dog in a hallway. Still, he wondered, "Who?"

"An enemy of yours. One you've known for years," Venom said, huffing and puffing like the little train who really needed to get a nut off.

 _Oh God,_ Spidermayne thought, _The Green Goblin._ The man of his nightmares. Despite his dread, he could feel the steamy pepperonis in his chest perk up little bit more.

Slowly, Venom's ink mask started to pull back, something Venom's mammoth butthole plunger would never do.

And the face revealed underneath was indeed green. But it wasn't the Green Goblin. No, it was someone else entirely. Someone horrible.

Shrek.

The semen demon.

Love. Life.

He just couldn't do it. He could not fucking do it at this point. Everything exploded, the universal law of boner conservation must be preserved. White spilled out of every orifice of every person present, spilling out in thick waves of juicy cum. It didn't even feel that good. At this point, it was just science at work.

The alleyway began to fill with a sea of white. The alleyway wasn't even closed out, but the cum decided to stay in the alley. You think anybody, in the throes of such pleasure, gives a single fuck about physics? No, all that truly mattered was making sure there was enough ranch dressing for everybody's pube salad.

But the pleasure was too much. And the cum was too deep. As they all started to lose their breath and their consciousness, their loins shivering and their assholes pulsating, they sucked in mouthfulls of cum, resolving to be baby daddies before they died. As they died, they could feel themselves become impregnated by the sheer amount of cum in their systems.

The last thing Spidermayne whispered to his swollen belly was, "I'm big papi now," before he closed his eyes for the last time.

They all died full of joy. And cum.

The end.


End file.
